Shadows of Gotham
by StarWarriorGirl14
Summary: What happens when a couple normal girls in Gotham attract the attention of some of Gotham's Rogues? Chaos in the streets, budding romances, Arkham breakouts, two or three new additions to the Rogues, and ultimately more trouble for Batman. Multiple OCs.
1. Graduation and New Beginnings

~Jayden~

I was just about ready to fall asleep, as were most of the other graduates. Up at the podium, a 21-year-old girl named Clover talked, giggled, and, usually, rambled through her speech. She brushed her platinum-blonde hair away from her eyes for the 23rd time (I'd been keeping a mental tally) and proceeded with what we all hoped was her conclusion.

"And so, after all the crises and struggling that came with getting us here...we're finally on our way to our bright, sparkling future!" I tried to keep myself from rolling my eyes, but judging from the look my friend Feather shot me from a few seats down, I'd failed. "She _has _to put sparkles in _everything!_" I hissed through gritted teeth. The four or five people between us either shushed me or nodded, depending on their own opinions on Clover. Feather just smiled, her blue eyes shining.

"I know, just deal with it," she whispered back.

"Congratulations, class of 2012!" Clover shouted. Most of us weren't expecting such an anticlimactic ending, and it took us a few moments to realize we were supposed to rise and clap. When the class finally did, it was with so much cheering and clapping one would think we'd done something...well, a lot more significant than listening to a disorganized speech, for one thing. Clover, thinking that we were cheering for her, instead of the fact that the speech was finished, took several bows.

"Thank you, thank you!" She called, soaking up the attention like sunbeams. "Good job, and good luck!" Pretty soon, everyone started spilling out of the doors, wanting to be the first to drive away from Gotham University for the last time. Feather gave me a huge hug, which was surprising considering her wispy look. She was small, delicate...a lot like the feathers she was named after.

"Good luck, Jayden," She said to me, fiddling with her blonde braid. There was a whole three years separating us, but I saw her as both a best friend and the big sister I'd never had. "Be careful," Considering where we lived, the warning was completely necessary. Gotham City was always proving dangerous to everyone, no matter who they were. "You too," I replied, although Feather had definitely chosen the safer career path. She had gotten a job as an art teacher down at the elementary school, and kindergarten-through-sixth graders were about as safe as you could get.

"Jayden! Feather! How did I do?" Clover hollered, pushing her way towards us.

"Great, Clover!" Feather replied enthusiastically, giving me a pointed look.

"It was a good speech," I said, forcing a smile.

"Did you write it on your own?"

"I sure did!" Clover said proudly. I gave her a crooked smirk in reply.

"Yeah, I could tell," Clover beamed.

"Thanks!" I burst out laughing at the fact that she definitely hadn't gotten my real meaning. Feather, on the other hand, did, because she elbowed me in the ribs. Hard.

"So, where are you going after this?" She asked pleasantly while I tried to rub away the pain.

"I'm going into professional cheerleading. I might even be on TV!" Clover said. Feather nodded, apparently impressed, but I just stood there. In my opinion, cheerleading automatically reduced your IQ by 100 points. And while I _might _be okay after that, Clover, on the other hand...

"I'm working down at the elementary school. I'm their new art teacher," Feather replied, answering a question I hadn't heard. After a quick glance at the clock—11:13 at night—I tried my luck slipping out the door unnoticed. Social skills weren't really my strong point.

"What about you, Jayden?" Clover asked, grabbing my wrist and pulling me back over to where they stood. "I mean, you were taking a _ton_ of psychology courses this whole time..." I sighed; there was only one reason why _anyone _would major in psychology. Or, in my case, psychopathology.

"I'm thinking of working at Arkham," I said as casually as I could. Clover's bright smile shrank by a few teeth.

"Oh," She said, finally allowing her lip-glossed smile to fade. "But _why_?" The question threw me for a loop. Why _was _I possibly throwing away my sanity for this job?

"I have no idea," I admitted, and the words scraped my throat and a few layers of my pride. _Clover, _of all people, had asked me a question I didn't know how to answer.

"You don't know why?" She asked in surprise.

"No," I said miserably. "Something to do, a way to prove myself, I guess," I stood there awkwardly for a moment until Clover suddenly reached over and pulled me into yet another hug.

"Well, be _extra _careful, okay?" She asked quietly. "Don't want you turning into another doctor-gone-rogue, do we?" Truthfully, that was what I'd worried about at first: turning into another Harley Quinn. But then I'd thought about all the walls I'd put up around myself, and that anxiety was pretty much gone.

"I won't," I said, accepting the fact that Clover was actually, genuinely, _concerned _about me. She nodded, reverting back to her bubbly self almost instantly.

"Happy graduation!" She cried, skipping off in a way that made her look nine years old.

"Thanks, Clover!" Feather called after her. I yawned a bit theatrically, but it seemed to do the trick.

"I'm gonna head home tonight. I start work tomorrow,"

"All right, Jayden," Feather said, a concerned smile on her face. Lordy, I was going to get tired of those looks. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"That sounds good," I said, smiling. After one last hug, I walked out of the stuffy gym towards my cobalt-blue car. A cold midnight wind ruffled through my hair, which I'd worn straight down my back for once. Feather had spent an hour and a half curling it into multiple ringlets that tumbled down my back, and I had to admit that it looked very pretty. Starting my car, I drove away from GU and was surprised to find that I really _did _feel the significance of this simple action.

* * *

The next day, I woke up to hear the alarm clock blaring out music from a radio station I couldn't name. Whatever it was, it was catchy and was the only reason I chose not to hit the snooze button. I checked the blue display, which read 7:15 AM, and sat in bed until the song ended. Then, I kicked off the dark blue sheets, took a quick shower to wash out my curls from last night, and got dressed in a pair of jeans, a dark blue shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes. It seemed way too casual, especially compared to what the other doctors seemed to wear, but I had talked to Dr. Leland about it and she'd said it was fine. The time was 7:50 when I'd rushed out the door, trying to make it before 8:00 and knowing that I'd probably fail.

~Dr. Leland~

I knocked on Dr. Arkham's door, needing to talk to him about the newest doctor-on-board.

"Come in," Came the gruff reply. I walked inside, closing the door softly behind me.

"I had a question about Dr. Tempest," Dr. Arkham looked at me blankly. "Jayden Tempest? The 19-year-old doctor who just graduated?"

"Ah, yes. The one with the exceptional grades. Some might even say genius,"

"Yes, her," I said. "Have you decided who her patient is going to be?" Dr. Arkham nodded before digging in his file cabinet.

"I believe I have," he said. "But you won't like it." At this, I tensed. Who had he set up for her? Not the Joker, certainly; we had all learned _that _lesson already. The folder Dr. Arkham had chosen was extraordinarily thick, which told me that it was a max-security patient. The name that I saw next proved Dr. Arkham right; I didn't like this decision at all.

"Isn't there anything else?" I asked him.

"It was either that or Crane. All the milder patients are already gone, of course,"

"Then why not give one of the more-experienced doctors this file? Switch them out so she has a patient more suitable for a beginner?"

"The last time I tried that, he drove Jorgenson crazy. Literally, I believe," Of course, he was right. Lucas Jorgenson was the last doctor to be put on this patient's case. He was wheeled into his own cell, babbling like an idiot, three weeks later. "Besides, the girl's intelligence speaks for itself. She could easily match his,"

"Which results in a challenge, which results in him trying extra hard to either force her to quit or drive her insane. Or simply kill her if he breaks out again." I responded, fighting so hard to spare the girl's life I could taste it. She had her whole life ahead of her, and I wasn't willing to force her to throw it all away for this patient; he'd eat her for breakfast. But in the long run, I really didn't have a choice but to go along with this decision.

Grudgingly, I picked up the folder, the motion feeling like I was throwing Jayden's sanity to the floor so I could grasp the folder.

"You understand why this must be, don't you, Joan?" Dr. Arkham said gently. "Between an obsession for riddles and an obsession for fear, I assumed that the former would be safer. Even though that may not be saying much,"

"I understand," I said flatly, striding out of the office. "All right, Mr. Nigma," I muttered under my breath. "You do anything to Jayden Tempest, anything at all, and I promise you that your position will get a whole lot worse," Did I think Jayden had a chance? Possibly, if she was as smart as Arkham said she was. Would that chance last long?

Sadly, no. I doubted that.

* * *

_Just like everything else...I don't own Batman, or anything associated with him. But it'd be pretty cool if I did. _

_Anyways, with this story comes a bunch of new characters of mine, Jayden, Feather, and Clover being the first. Be prepared for multiple viewpoints throughout the story, and, as always, reading and reviewing is appreciated. Thank you for being patient with my sporadic updates and finicky writer's block, and I hope to see you next chapter!**  
**_


	2. First Day Jitters and Bending Rules

~Karla~

Being a guard at Arkham Asylum was one of the worst jobs in the entire friggin' city. Having to stand guard for eight straight hours a day while the nutcases and whack-jobs of Gotham yell at you from their cells, food that makes any sort of cafeteria meal at school look like a gourmet meal...and the pay is lousy. Anyone who's a guard knows that this is _so _not worth $11.50 an hour.

Really, it's all a girl can do not to punch someone.

Actually, that's not _really _true. I've clocked people a ton of times in this place. And I've never gotten caught, not once. Even if I was, though, I think they'd understand. I mean, seriously, I'm allowed to get angry at these pathetic excuses for human beings. Today was one of those days.

It all started off when Riddler had gone off on some speech comparing my inferior brain to his superior intellect. So I did what any other guard in my position would do: I opened his cell and clocked him one across the jaw. It was hilarious how he stumbled backwards, slamming into his bed. And since all the furniture here is welded to the floor, he bounced off it and fell on the floor.

"Who's inferior _now_?" I cried triumphantly, even though all the other prisoners were shouting threats and foul language at me. _They can't touch me, _I thought. _They're on the wrong side of the glass. _Still, though, all good things have to end and this was over pretty quick. Just as I was about to punch him again, a hand wrapped around my wrist. It was straining to keep my fist where it was, but it did the trick. I groaned. The fun was officially over, and I was caught. Time to play a sympathy card.

"It's not like you can blame me, these guys are annoying beyond belief..." I said, not turning around. The hand tightened, its fingertips digging into a little hollow in my wrist. I winced as pain shot through my arm. Whoever was attached to that hand knew what they were doing.

"You should be able to handle it, Karla. I'm surprised they even let you _have _this job, to be brutally honest. You're so incurably hot-tempered my tax dollars should be paying for your own cell," At this I froze. I only knew one person who used words like "incurably" in everyday speech.

"What're _you_ doing here, Jayden?" I growled, finally turning around. She still wore her mousy hair up in a ponytail, with her bangs swept off to the side. Her dark green eyes glared out at me.

"I'm a doctor here," She snapped, crossing her arms. "And I _will _report this."

"He your patient or something?" I asked, gesturing to Riddler. He was watching the conversation from the floor with a weird look on his face. Jayden just smirked, shrugging. God, I _hated _it when she did that.

"Maybe, maybe not. I haven't gotten my assignment yet," She said. "At any rate, you should be able to control yourself." I glared down at her, which was easy because I was six-foot-four compared to her five-foot-six.

"Why can't I just hit _you_?" I asked quietly. I saw her eyes flash in anxiety. "Just like Keith would." Jayden turned a pale white, which I thought was funny. "Still have the bruises? Any scars? I'd like to give you some more," She swallowed hard, her eyes getting back a bit of their anger. I shoved her backwards out of the cell without another word as I remembered what she did to my brother. I was past caring about responsibility. Or at least I thought I was.

"Jayden! What's going on?" Came Dr. Leland's voice. Oh, crap.

"Just...er..." I said, trying to come up with some sort of lie. I slammed the cell door shut behind me.

"So, you attacked a patient _and _a doctor?" Dr. Leland asked harshly.

"She's been doing that for a _loong _time!" Harley Quinn yelled from her cell, and then everyone was yelling out random incidents. I was _so _screwed.

"Karla, you might as well turn in your uniform now," Leland said, helping Jayden to her feet. "Because I know for a fact your supervisor won't be excusing this." I groaned as all the prisoners around me cheered.

"SHUT UP!" I screamed, slamming a hand onto Harley's cell door. She jumped in surprise, and I laughed. "Fine, just get me outta this hellhole!" I gave Jayden one more glare before marching out of Arkham, not looking back. For some weird reason, I wasn't too upset about it. Maybe the loony bin _does _rub off on you. At any rate, I had a phone call to make when I got home. I mean, it had been a good four months since Keith last saw his ex-girlfriend.

~Jayden~

I'd never admit it easily, but I was scared. It was bad enough running into Karla here—that brought back memories I'd been trying to forget—but the threat of her brother hung over me like a 20-ton boulder. _I think I'd prefer a boulder, _I thought.

"Jayden, are you all right?" Dr. Leland asked me as we walked back towards the offices. I rubbed my left shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the impact onto the floor.

"Just some bruising, from the feel of it," I said. "I'll be fine." Leland nodded before plunking a thick folder into my hands.

"Jayden, if you want an easier patient, go talk to Dr. Arkham. He'll listen to you," She said warningly before letting me read the name on the folder. _Nigma, Edward. _

Well, _this _was going to be interesting.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Leland asked for the umpteenth time. I was sitting in my office, waiting for Riddler to show up and, because boredom does strange things to me, spinning around on my swivel chair.

"Yeah, I can manage," I said. Taking in the concern in Leland's brown eyes, I added, "But if it's too much for me, you'll be the first to know." This improved things a lot.

"All right," She said. "But don't let your guard down, stay in control, and don't play _any _of his games." I fought back the urge to laugh. It felt like any minute she'd straighten my jacket and hand me a sack lunch; it sounded like the kind of format a mother would use on her child's first day of school. _Have a great day, listen to your teacher, and play nice with the other kids! _

"I got it," I told her, and she smiled. Even though it didn't really reach her eyes, I just stopped spinning around and sat up straight. I was trying to show her that I was certain I could handle whatever Riddler cared to dish out. Even though on the inside I was feeling a lot like Leland seemed to be. Two guards entered the room, with Riddler in between them. He smirked once he saw me, meaning that he recognized me from earlier today. For some strange reason, I was pretty sure that wasn't a good thing.

"Hello, Dr. Tempest," He said as Leland and the guards left the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, he turned to me and uttered the three words I knew were coming but found frustrating anyway.

"Riddle me this..."

* * *

"That was _the most _frustrating 45 minutes of my _life!_" I vented into my phone that night. Feather had called as I was heating up some ramen noodles in the microwave, and I had told her about my first session with Riddler.

"Well, when you have two equally-stubborn forces, one with questions and one with riddles, you don't really get anywhere," Feather pointed out.

"And you say you're bad with physics!" I said.

"That's all the physics I need to know!" We both laughed for a few minutes, and it was times like these that made me glad I had a friend like Feather. It made life a whole lot easier.

"Seriously, though, he's just treating these sessions like some sort of game. I was surprised he wasn't saying things like 'Riddler, 12, Tempest, 0'." I continued.

"Since this 'game' isn't working for you," She began. "I think changing some rules would be a good place to start. Even the playing field a little bit." I thought over her suggestion out of courtesy, even thought I didn't think it'd help. And then a wicked grin spread over my face.

"Feather, you wonderful friend, you just gave me a _brilliant _idea," I could imagine Feather's little smile and shrug as she replied.

"I try."

* * *

I walked into my office the next day with a sort of confidence I rarely had. Today's session, I said to Leland, would be different. She'd seemed dubious, even cautious, but agreed to let me try again on the condition that this session would be 20 minutes shorter. I'd agreed. Unlike yesterday, though, the guards didn't knock at the door. So instead of maybe looking a little more confident, I was caught red-handed spinning around in my chair again.

"Oh, hey," I said, hoping my face wasn't as red as my hands were...metaphorically speaking, that was. "I'll take him from here," The guards nodded, blank-faced, as the backed out of the room. I looked over at Riddler, who was eying me from the couch with a smug expression that was probably a result of catching me playing with the swivel chair. Stupid chair.

"Do they ever say anything?" I asked, referring to the guards and wishing that he would stop looking at me like that. Those emerald eyes would be a lot easier to ignore if they weren't such a big help in making smug faces at me.

"No, I've never heard them say a word," Riddler replied. "I don't think they have the capabilities necessary to." Normally I wasn't big on taking shots at other people's intelligence, but I had to agree. Not that I'd tell him that. You don't just go around inflating a narcissist's ego.

"Okay, then. Now..." I started.

"Are you really going to try this again? You should've learned from yesterday." He interrupted.

"I _did._" I said, trying to keep my cool. He was _not_ going to get under my skin today.

"And?" He asked expectantly. I exhaled sharply; I was probably crazy myself for _ever_ thinking this was a good idea.

"How about a game?" I asked.

"Dr. Leland specifically said you can't play any games," Riddler said sourly, but I could tell I'd gotten his attention.

"No, she said not to play any of _your _games. This one is all mine," A wicked smirk appeared on Riddler's face, sending a chill up my spine. _Way to go, Jayden, _I thought. _What have you done now?_

"Just how does this game work, Dr. Tempest?" He asked.

"You ask me a riddle. For every one I get right, you have to tell me something about yourself. Something _relevant _and _substantial._" I added the last part before he got any ideas.

"And if you get them wrong?" I could hear the unspoken part of his question: _Which I'm sure you will. _

"I have to tell _you_ something." Riddler paused, deciding that he liked this game.

"Do you know what you're getting into, Dr. Tempest?" His repeated use of my name was, I was certain, deliberate. I wasn't sure why, but it was.

"Considering that I came up with this late at night and chose not to think of too many outcomes, probably not. Just tell me your first riddle before I change my mind."

"Fine," he said. "What gets wetter the more it dries?"

"A towel," I answered almost immediately. Riddler's smirk faded instantly.

"That was an easy one," He muttered, showing no sign of telling me anything.

"Then we'll go with an easier question," I replied. "How many doctors did you have before me?" At this point, anything would be a start.

"Eight." Riddler answered. I gave out a low whistle. At least, it was an attempt at one; whistling was definitely on the list of things I can't do.

"Next riddle!" He announced, brushing a few locks of dark brown hair away from his face. "I stare at you, you stare at me. I have three eyes yet I cannot see. Every time I blink, I give commands. You do as you're told with your feet and your hands. What am I?" To say I was stumped would be an understatement. I really had no idea what it was. I looked into every option my brain offered, but none of it made sense.

"I don't know," I said after a grueling four minutes. I _hated _those words.

"A traffic light!" Riddler said triumphantly. I groaned, facepalming.

"_Now _I get it," I sighed.

"Now, what to ask...? I'll give you an easy one. How old are you?" How _old _was I? I saw the dangers of giving up that information. But this was my game. I wasn't exempt from having to follow the rules.

"Nineteen," I said at last, earning a surprised double-take from Riddler.

"Nineteen," He repeated. "You're fresh out of Gotham University at nineteen?"

"And I'm a lot more responsible than most women in their thirties." I replied.

"Says the girl who plays with swivel chairs like a five-year-old," He said, his smirk wider than ever. I had to admit, I'd walked right into that one.

By the end of the session, I had been asked six riddles. I'd answered four correctly, and both of us had walked away with decent information. I knew, among other things, that Riddler could pick any sort of lock in under 20 seconds. He knew that I'd once caused a school-wide evacuation after accidentally blowing something up in chemistry of my junior year. But as far as his questions were concerned, had he gone easy on me? Yes, he definitely had. And since it was only going to get harder from here, I figured it was time to find some riddles of my own.

~Feather~

I knocked on the door to Jayden's apartment, nervously bouncing on my toes as I looked up and down the silent hall. Even though Jayden had told me there wasn't really anything bad about the residents, the place creeped me out. It felt like a place where something bad could happen to you any second. Jayden opened the door with a cautious expression on her face, but she broke into a smile as soon as she saw it was me.

"Oh, hey!" She said, pulling me through the doorway.

"I should've called first," I said, biting my lip. Judging from her messy ponytail and oversized shirt, she might've been asleep already.

"No, you're okay," Jayden said absently, dropping something into the kitchen sink and scampering away. I looked inside to find a small kitchen knife, and the sight of it scared me like nothing else. She looked over at me with a sheepish expression.

"Jayden, what _happened?" _I asked her.

"I ran into Karla yesterday," She confessed, and I knew exactly where this was going.

"Jayden, Keith's locked up, remember?" I said soothingly, noticing the tears in her eyes. I'd seen what he had done to her, and I couldn't bear to watch her go through that nightmare again.

"That doesn't mean anything here!" Jayden sobbed, suddenly throwing her arms around me. She wasn't the type to just randomly hug someone like she said I was, so I knew she was scared.

"You'll be okay, Jayden, he won't find you," I said softly. Even though Jayden was smart beyond her years, she was still emotional and she was my little sister in every way except blood. "I mean, you moved two different times before coming here, right?"

"Y-yeah..." She whispered, voice shaking. I didn't say anything for a minute as she pulled herself together again, and then I decided it was time to change the subject.

"How did work go?" I asked. Jayden suddenly laughed, with tears still glimmering in her eyes.

"It went great!" She said. After a pause, she added, "Well, better than yesterday. I'm not sure if what I did was a good idea, but I've made progress..."

"...What did you do?" I asked carefully. Jayden quickly explained the "game" she'd created. I was silent with shock until I realized she was serious.

"Do you have _any idea _what that might _do?_" I asked, my voice rising with panic.

"I know, I know!" Jayden said. "But I think he's been going easy on me as far as questions go," She sounded confused on the last part.

"That won't last long," I murmured.

"Feather, _please._" Jayden said. "I need to be able to distract myself. Otherwise I'm going to give myself a heart attack every time I hear a knock at the door."

"A-alright," I said quietly. "But be _careful, _okay?"

"I promise," Jayden said, knowing how shaken up I was. It made me feel selfish, really. There was the possibility of her abusive ex-boyfriend coming back, she was playing a not-so-harmless game with a well-known rogue, and _I _was the one who was terrified. Did that make Jayden crazy or me overprotective? I decided to trust her judgment, though. Even if Jayden didn't really know what she was doing, she was pretty good at figuring _something _out.

* * *

_First reaction to a series of emails I got telling me about a review/story favorite/story alert: "Holy crap, this hasn't even been up for 24 hours yet!" _

_Anyway, this chapter is a **whole **lot longer than the first (obviously) and I'm beginning to see the benefits of writing these down in a notebook first. I don't need to have access to a computer to work on the story! (Hence the fast update). Chapter three is in progress as I type, and it should be up in a few days. But don't count on math homework not getting in the way of that, because it will just because it can. _**:/**


	3. Shadows from the Past

~Dr. Leland~

Jayden had been on Riddler's case for what was, as of Monday, a record-breaking length of time. She'd been having 1-hour sessions two days a week, and this routine had lasted for a good three weeks. She'd gone a month and make it look easy. When I thought about it, I found that she even seemed _excited _for her and Riddler's sessions.

Naturally, I was concerned.

Jayden hadn't spoken to me about any sort of trouble, which could only mean that she didn't know she was in trouble. I didn't know _what _went on during those sessions, but anything that can make Riddler tolerate everyday Arkham life without fifteen complaints a day can't be good.

But the notes Jayden had taken surprised me. She'd never let me look at them—she'd nailed me with my own rules on doctor/patient confidentiality—but she'd already filled an entire notepad. The last eight doctors combined barely filled half. I wasn't even certain that what Riddler was telling Jayden was true, but I was convinced that there was just too much information for a few weeks. For a beginner, at least.

I'd already spoken with Dr. Arkham, and he agreed that it was probably best if Jayden was suspended from these sessions for a while. She'd still go on with regular duties, of course; just no hands-on analysis for a bit. I wasn't expecting Jayden's reaction to be a good one, but it was for her own good.

I called Jayden a few minutes later, waiting for her to pick up.

"Hullo...?" Came her answer after five dial tones, groggy and possibly disoriented. I checked the clock: 7:55. Normally she was here half an hour ago.

"Rough night?" I asked, concerned. I knew Jayden was anxious about her ex-boyfriend, but since he hadn't turned up in a month it was unlikely he ever would. But his scare tactics had made Jayden lose more than one night of sleep.

"Oh, Dr. Leland!" Jayden exclaimed as something clattered to the floor on her end of the line. "I know I'm running late, I overslept, I'm sorry!" I actually had to think about why she was so panicked. Today was Tuesday. She had sessions Tuesday and Thursday. Of course.

"Jayden, I want you to stop doing these sessions for a while," I said as gently as I could.

"...You _what_?" Jayden asked, sounding shocked at the suggestion. _Not a good sign, _I thought to myself.

"Just for a little while," I said. "We—that is, Dr. Arkham and I—think you're becoming too attached."

"What are the odds that Dr. Arkham is only concerned because you brought it to his attention?" Jayden countered. "And since when did you agree with him?" Ever since her first week, she'd been developing a habit of asking people multiple questions—not necessarily ones they were supposed to answer—to prove her own point. And while a lot of people did that, I thought she did it with a sort of skill that unnerved me. At this, the thought of just taking her off Riddler's case entirely had crossed my mind, but she was tense enough already.

"Look, Jayden, I know you're upset," I said calmly. "But all I'm asking for is for you to take a few days off. You've thrown yourself headfirst into it, and I appreciate your effort, but you're in too deep here." Jayden sighed, a burst of static on the speakers, and I knew that she'd understood the double meaning of my words.

"So am I still on for today? Before I get too ahead of myself?" I thought about it for a moment.

"All right," I said at last, regretting the decision. "And then take a week or two off from sessions."

"Okay...I'll be there in a few." I still held the phone up to my ear when Jayden hung up. All I could think about was how desperate Harley had been to keep up her sessions with the Joker. How I was too late to help her. I was determined not to make the same mistake twice, but part of me had to wonder if I was already too late.

~Riddler~

"Time for your session." A guard said flatly, which seemed to be the only sentence they were capable of saying.

"Have fun," Harley said sadly, having no idea how much I actually looked forward to this. None of them had any inkling, because truth be told, there were idle ears everywhere. And what would happen if Jayden—Dr. Tempest, that is—got in trouble? No more riddles. No more exchanging stories. And certainly no more intellectual stimulation. That last thought brought along an interesting question: Were we in Arkham because we were crazy, or were we crazy because we were in Arkham? I chuckled to myself, earning a strange glance from the guards on both my sides. But they wouldn't have understood my humor. To put it mildly, I would be genuinely surprised to find that their brains were worth more than the cheap bulletproof vests they wore.

Jayden, on the other hand, was...well, brilliant. And that was not a term I just applied to _anyone._ She'd solved more than half of the riddles I'd asked (I wasn't entirely sure whether to be pleased or annoyed) and had even asked me a few of her own. They had been easy for me, but she'd tried.

As soon as I walked into her office, though, I knew today was an off-day for her. I knew she'd been losing sleep—any idiot could see the dark circles around her eyes—but over _what_? That was the thousand-dollar question.

"Hey," she said as the door clicked shut, sounding even more exhausted than she had last Thursday.

"Jayden..." I began. We'd been on a first-name basis for a while now. "If you aren't feeling your best, perhaps you should...take a break." I could not believe I'd just said that.

"I'm taking a few weeks off...at Dr. Leland's request." Jayden replied sourly. I straightened up on the couch.

"She _isn't_ taking you off my case," A strange wave of an unfamiliar emotion—possessiveness? Desire, something like that—washed over me, and I made a mental note to watch what I said. I'd very nearly said _"taking you away from me". _

"Not that I know of," Jayden groaned. "She said, and I quote, that 'I'm getting too attached'. But I'm trying not to go hard on her; I think she genuinely worries about me." I just nodded at this, opening my mouth to say something when her phone rang.

"Dammit..." She muttered. "You don't mind if I take this, do you?"

"As long as I get to ask you just one more riddle," I said quickly. If I didn't get this—whatever _this _was—out of my system today I'd be stewing in it all week. And how is one supposed to come up with riddles when his mind is on a different track?

"Sure," Jayden replied, answering her phone. "Hello?" There was a pause, and suddenly Jayden's face turned a chalky white as her pupils dilated in fear. She quickly hung up, shoving the device into the bottom of her bag. And as if all this wasn't enough, she started crying.

"I need to tell you something," She said.

~Jayden~

"Hey, Jayden. Miss me?" My blood went cold as I recognized the voice's owner. Gruff, taunting...yeah, definitely Keith. "Hope you aren't too busy; I want to...catch up with you." I hung up right in the middle of his laughing, looking up to see a concerned-looking Riddler. And I burst into tears a few seconds later.

"I need to tell you something," I said. All thoughts of a riddles seemingly gone, Riddler stood up, pulled me to my feet, and sat me down on the couch next to him. Numbly, I realized his hand still had a tight grip on my wrists, but that was all lost in the whirlwind of my emotions. Just when I thought I was safe, that the long nightmare was over, it was reviving itself.

"What is it?" he asked quietly. I took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Six or seven months ago, I was dating a guy named Keith," I began. "For the first month, maybe give or take a few days, it was going great. But then things went downhill fast, and I still don't know why..." And from there, I told him about all the times Keith had beaten me, or thrown me against the stairs, or threatened to hunt me down if I ever left. Every incident, every derogatory name he'd ever called me was spilling out of my mouth, and he just sat there and absorbed it all. The doctor had become the patient.

In ten or fifteen minutes, I'd pretty much explained everything that my closest friends knew. But what I told him next I hadn't revealed to anyone, not even the police on the night they'd arrested him. I didn't know _why _I was telling him, but maybe it was just time someone else knew.

"One day, about three days before he was arrested, he had a huge party planned with a bunch of people he knew from college." I started, willing myself to stay strong. I didn't want to be collapsing into tears again. "Around 20 minutes before they started showing up, he dragged me downstairs—this was at his house—and kept hitting me so hard I nearly blacked out. We'd just had a big fight a few days ago, but apparently he wasn't about to let me forget it. So he took some rope and tied my arms and legs together, gagged me with a rag, and locked me in a closet next to the freezer.

"When his friends had all showed up, he said, so loud I could hear him all the way downstairs, that 'Girls who try to bail out have to be punished'. He left me down there all night.. The whole time, I just wanted to die. Some days I wished I had,"

"I'm glad you didn't," Riddler said after a few moments of silence. "You're the only competent doctor I've had." There was some sort of look in his eyes I hadn't seen before; I didn't know what it was, but I knew he felt my pain. With Feather, as kind as she was, she could never really understand just how bad I'd felt. But Riddler's father had abused him, so he knew what it was like.

"Thanks," I whispered as the last of my tears left my eyes. I felt so much better; like I'd been carrying around a whole backpack of textbooks and suddenly someone had given me a locker. Riddler just smiled. Not the smirk he usually gave, but an actual smile that anyone could pull off. Well, almost everyone; I could think of a few exceptions, all located in Arkham themselves. Riddler reached over and brushed away a tear that had gotten stuck on my eyelashes, his hand staying on the side of my face a lot longer than necessary. But I didn't do anything about it; for whatever reason, I couldn't really do anything. Nor did I _want _to.

"You said I had to try and answer one more riddle if I picked up my phone," I reminded him.

"That wasn't the kind of phone call I was anticipating," Riddler said, sounding a little distracted.

"Rules are rules," I argued. "Besides, it'll be the last one for a week or so," He nodded, still staring off into space like I tended to do, and spoke.

"Riddle me that, riddle me this: Who is the girl that I simply must kiss?" It took me a few seconds to process, and once I'd decided that my head wasn't playing tricks on me, I felt his lips come crashing down on mine. I gave a small squeak of surprise and I would've fallen flat on my back if Riddler's other arm hadn't snaked its way around my waist and caught me.

"Cheater," I mumbled. "You gave me the answer before you even gave me a chance to answer."

"I couldn't risk you taking _too _long. And am I detecting a complaint?" _No, you're really not, _I thought, my head spinning as he brought the kiss further along. Sure, I'd been kissed before, but never like this. With Keith there was no love, nothing except anger and a false apology. It was mainly to keep up an image, no more, no less.

_This,_ on the other hand, was another story entirely. It was completely foreign to me: passionate, warm, real. The kind of thing that I used to roll my eyes at when other girls started talking about it, saying that it wasn't real, that it didn't really exist.

And here I was right now, kissing one of the most infamous Rogues Gotham City had to offer. I made a mental note to not tell Feather about this. It was crazy enough that he was kissing me; that part alone would send Feather into panicked hysterics. But the part where I realized that I was doing nothing to stop him, that I was actually _kissing him back _would completely freak her out. Because it wasn't what she would expect of me. Her first question would be about the walls I'd put up after Keith's arrest. _Screw the walls and all they stand for. _I thought as I felt them start to crumble.

The door flew open and Riddler and I all but jumped apart. In the doorway stood a disheveled and panting Feather. If Feather was _running, _it was never a good thing. Not to mention the fact that she'd left work early.

"Feather! What are you doing here?" I exclaimed, hoping she hadn't noticed that a few heartbeats ago I'd been kissing a Rogue on the couch. _That _would be hard to explain.

If Feather _had _noticed, though, she wasn't saying anything about it. I figured that something before her bursting into my office had riled her up, and I was right.

"Keith's out looking for you! I saw him on the streets asking people if they've seen you. Karla's helping him, and...augh!" Feather gave out a scream as her phone rang.

"Feather, calm down, it's just your phone..." I said, walking over to her in case she fainted. She seemed very close to doing so.

"That's the problem!" She replied. "He's been calling me all day, and he's been leaving weird messages, and..."

"Leaving messages?" Riddler interjected. "More like leaving evidence, leaving _stupidity _in his wake. He isn't being careful; slip-ups like these get the police on your tail like nothing else." Feather and I side-eyed him as he sat back with a self-satisfied air. Feather, on the other hand, looked confused as to why he was offering information, and I fought back a giggle. Their expressions were strangely humoring.

"Are you sure that's how it works?" Feather asked as the phone went to voicemail again.

"He's the only one with experience in criminal activities," I replied. "So it's the best—and pretty much the only—idea we have." Feather's phone rang yet _again, _and before I could stop myself I snatched it out of her shaking hands. Right before I opened the top, I saw the number. That was Keith's, all right.

"_WHAT?" _I yelled, startling both Feather and Riddler.

"Jayden! I was wondering when that friend of yours was gonna get the hint!" Keith exclaimed tauntingly. Why could he always manage to set my teeth on edge just by talking?

"Leave Feather _out _of this!" I snarled. "Already I can tell you have OCD, you've _obviously _had anger management problems for a while, and you might even have borderline personality disorder. Whatever you have, _stay away _from me, Feather_, _and _anyone_ elseI know! You did enough damage the first time around!"

"I'm coming back whether you like it or not, Jayden!" Keith growled, and every hair on the back of my neck stood on end. "Because you belong to _me_." I shuddered as I hung up on him yet again.

"You okay?" Feather asked. I shrugged.

"Could've been worse," After a few moments of thinking, I said. "So much for this session...I think the roles have reversed a little bit." Riddler chuckled and Feather smiled weakly.

"I'm going to go home," she said. "I've freaked myself out enough for one day."

"Try a week, Feather. I've seen leapfrogs less jumpy than you." I said teasingly as she gave me a quick hug. At least, I thought it would be quick.

"Do I want to _know _just how you got around to kissing him?" She whispered, looking over at Riddler. He put on an expression that was a bit too innocent as I turned around, and I could tell he'd heard her question.

"Probably not," I replied, quieter. Feather laughed quietly, and I knew that Riddler was frustrated at not being able to listen in.

"...You liked it, didn't you?" She asked, grinning. _This _was a reaction I wasn't prepared for.

"A lot," I replied. Feather's eyes had a tinge of sadness to them, but just a little bit.

"Jayden..." She began, and I knew that I was _really _in for it now. "No matter what decisions you make...I'll always be your friend. That won't ever change." She finished hugging me and walked out of the office a few seconds later. I smiled to myself as I sat back down on my chair. I spun it around one more time before coming to a stop.

"Was that an eventful session or what?" I asked.

"I'm going to say that _yes_, that was the most eventful session I've ever had. And technically it wasn't my session." Riddler said, smirking yet again. I decided that I liked that expression. It reminded me of my comments to Clover the night of graduation.

The guards came yet again, escorting Riddler out of the office.

"See you later, Dr. Tempest," He said, reverting back to calling me by my more-professional name.

"Take care of yourself, Edward," I replied as the door clicked shut. I rubbed my temples and sighed. With every session, I couldn't help but wonder if I was getting closer and closer to going out of Arkham—as I liked to put it—Harley Quinn style.

Maybe I _did _need this vacation after all.

* * *

That night, I walked into my apartment to find that something was wrong. _Very _wrong. The air was thick and tense, and as I continued walking (not one of my smarter ideas) I noticed that a small table had actually been overturned, the things sitting on it now spread all over the floor.

And then I saw his shadow, the silhouette that had haunted my nightmares for so long. There was nowhere to run; I saw one of the kitchen knives in his hand.

"Hey, Jayden," Keith said, gray eyes dangerously bright. "Miss me?"

* * *

_And now, after making you wait, I give you a cliffhanger and make you wait even longer! MWAHAHA! _

_Nothing much to say for this chapter. It's long, it was a bit of a roller coaster ride, I probably failed at Edward's POV but I did my best, yak, yak, yak.  
_

_Just wanna give a special thanks to England101, who also goes by Iggy, for both your constant reviews and the fun PM's. I swear that that's the only reason this got done on a timely manner. Have fun waiting for the next chapter! *Incredibly evil maniacal laugh*  
_


	4. Call for Backup

**After much pain and suffering on my part (damn writer's block!) I've decided to simply cut this chapter short and put this up. It's sort of an intermission for my brain to ensure that the next chapters will not be as crappy, so if there's a drop in quality I apologize in advance!**

* * *

~Dr. Leland~

I looked at the clock with a sense of increasing anxiety. It was 10:30. Jayden was supposed to be here two and a half hours ago. At first, I thought that she'd just gotten caught up at home and had forgotten to call.

But as the hours ticked away, I grew less and less certain. Just as I was about to call her, however, a knock sounded on my door. I opened it to reveal none other than Commissioner Gordon. The situation had just gotten a lot worse, I could tell already. The police don't stop by here unless something bad happened to either the inmates or the people who work here. And since there hadn't been any breakouts...

"Dr. Leland, we have some...rather bad news about Dr. Tempest." He said gravely. "We got a phone call from one of her neighbors at around 7:45 last night. She said something about screaming and smashing coming from the room down the hall. This morning, we got another call from her friend, Feather. Poor girl was scared half to death. She said that she'd gone to talk to Miss Tempest this morning, but when she got there the apartment door was left cracked open and the inside looked like a tornado hit the place. Since Jayden hasn't made any form of contact, we're assuming that whoever broke in kidnapped her. Do you have any idea if Jayden had any specific...well, enemies that would target her?"

"Yes," I said immediately. "She mentioned that her ex-boyfriend might come back to Gotham, but we didn't think he'd really do so until about a few days ago."

"Do you know his name?"

"Keith," I said, despising that name. "Keith Bernardino." I remembered the slight quiver in Jayden's voice when she first told me about Keith. Gordon nodded, writing something down on a notepad.

"We'll be in touch," he said before heading off, probably going to go investigate the crime scene again. _Crime scene..._The thought scared me. Jayden's own apartment had now become a crime scene. A moment of terror caught in time. And while I trusted law enforcement to find her quickly—because this wasn't a full-blown psychotic that we were dealing with—I couldn't help but wonder how long it would take for them to find her. Because Gotham's Finest wasn't exactly known for being quick about these things.

~Feather~

I was terrified. I mean, she was _gone_! Nobody had any idea where he'd taken her, and she was gone! The police had said that they'd do their best to find her. But apparently Jayden wasn't a priority in Batman's eyes, because he wasn't even offering to help. That part didn't bother me too much, though. I was sure he was busy trying to track down both Joker and Scarecrow. Those two were _extra _dangerous when they decided to team up. But they weren't exactly harmless by themselves; even my kindergarten students knew that much.

I still remembered how Jayden's apartment had looked that morning. To say the least, I'd been surprised at the fact that the door creaked open when I'd knocked on it. A little warning sign had flashed in my head at that point. But I'd walked inside anyway, because to be honest I was scared to see what might have happened and I wanted to make sure she was okay.

Everything that wasn't supposed to be knocked over was...well, knocked over. There was broken glass on the floor, things that had been on shelves or tables were out on the floor, and to say I was scared would be a serious understatement.

"J-Jayden?" I called, hoping that she'd answer, hoping that she hadn't been home when whoever ransacked her place had come. And then I saw a knife on the floor, not one of Jayden's, but one with a single name written on it. "Keith Bernardino".

I called the police without a second thought. But right now, I didn't think that they would make any progress. Keith might make dumb mistakes, and I couldn't deny that he'd left a huge chunk of evidence behind, but he still knew what he was doing. _But I can't just sit here, _I thought. _So who do I call? _As crazy of an idea as it was, I _did _have one. _Feather, this is a bad idea. It could ruin any opportunity you have in the future. _I usually imagined what my mother would say whenever I was trying to make a difficult decision. _But Mom, this is __**Jayden **__I'm talking about. _I thought, and then I ignored my mother's would-be protests. Was I going crazy? According to Jayden, arguing with yourself was not a sign of insanity. "It's when you argue with yourself and you _lose _when there's an issue." She'd say. I still wasn't sure whether or not she was joking. She'd seemed serious enough, minus the smile. At any rate, I wasn't losing this argument; not technically, anyway.

Before I could try to talk myself out of this, I grabbed my car keys and raced out the door. There was someone that I needed to talk to. Someone that, for better or worse, could get Jayden out of trouble faster than the police department could. And just to complicate things, that "someone" happened to be clinically insane.

But right now, that was the least of my worries.

~Dr. Leland~

I was looking through Jayden's desk, trying to find any clues as to where she could have gone if she hadn't been kidnapped, or if she'd gotten away. I couldn't find anything promising, but that didn't mean there was nothing to be found.

It was pure accident that I found her notebook; her desk was a complete and total disaster area. Jayden had told me that one of her working weaknesses was that she was "horribly and hopelessly disorganized", but I was in no way prepared for the extent of it. I thought she was just exaggerating; now...not so much. Crumpled papers, papers out of folders, the folders scattered across her desk...and yet there was a method to the madness, order amidst the chaos. The folders weren't alphabetized like the other doctors'; they were ordered from most important to least important. _Now if only she'd actually use them. _I thought, looking at the scattered paperwork with amused exasperation.

I knew that Jayden wouldn't like it if she ever found out that I'd gone through her notes, but quite frankly, I couldn't resist. I had to know what Riddler was telling her. Slowly, as if she might come bursting into the office any second, I opened the notebook to the first page. A date at the top, 6/3/12, let me know that this was from her first day. As such, there really wasn't much there. _Extremely frustrating insistence to do the sessions "his way". Not much—if any—progress made. _Jayden had written in her messy—yet strangely attractive—scrawl. The way she wrote lower-case D's was especially interesting; the way that they curved at the top made them look like eighth notes with the flags at almost a ninety-degree angle. I turned the page and was shocked by a few things. One, I was surprised to learn that Jayden, despite the fact that her desk suggested that a tornado had ripped through the room, could make a very professional-looking outline. The way she wrote things made it feel like she'd managed to channel herself through her pen into the paper itself. But that wasn't what caught my attention.

Riddles. She'd written riddles everywhere in the margins, and had even added the ones that Riddler had apparently asked her into the outline. But it was strange the way she'd put this together. First off, she'd write out the riddle. Then, below it, the answer. After that came a surprisingly-personal (and, as far as I could tell, accurate) fact about Riddler's life. _What __is__ this? _I thought to myself. Flipping through the pages, I saw that they were no different. Riddles, facts, occasional notes scattered throughout an outline that went on for pages and seemed to have no end.

"Where did this come from, Jayden?" I asked the notebook, because it felt so much like she was speaking to me right now. "What were you doing?" As if the notebook was trying to answer my questions, the next page I landed on made me stop on a note in the corner. _The game's working much better than I thought it would; rule changes mean that the difficulty of the riddle dictates how personal a question is. _However, I didn't understand much; Jayden's notes were as cryptic as the riddles surrounding them were. Forget writing riddles; she was writing _in _riddles. One work stuck out to me the most: "game". And while I specifically told Jayden to not play any game Riddler suggested, it looked like she'd exploited a now-obvious loophole and made her own. But she'd gotten so much information...

I closed the notebook on a page midway through the book, sighing. _Jayden, what did you get yourself into? _I asked silently, although I couldn't help but think back onto a conversation I'd had with Riddler just that morning. Right after Commissioner Gordon had given me the news about Jayden's apartment. How he'd demanded, with surprising intensity, seeing as though his medication had been switched fairly recently, where Jayden was. Knowing that their sessions were on standby, but she was still expected to show up. I'd struggled to give him a reason for why she wasn't there; I'd finally stuck with an excuse that I'd given her the day off because there was nothing to do. But the scrutinizing gleam in his eyes as I walked away let me know that he didn't completely believe me. Replacing the notebook in around the same place where I'd found it, I walked out of Jayden's office and quietly closed the door behind me. Just like I'd gotten an unwelcome feeling picking up Riddler's folder knowing that he was to be her patient, I felt another come on as I tried to convince my hand to let go of the doorknob. I was locking everything about Jayden away behind walls. Not just to Riddler, who couldn't know what was going on—and probably wouldn't care—but a few other doctors who'd noticed something wasn't right.

"Dr. Leland?" The current receptionist, Miss Hernandez, said from behind me. Carmine Hernandez brushed her raven hair out of her brown eyes as I walked over to her, not really knowing how I came to be standing in the lobby. "There's a woman at the gate. Feather Sylvess. She says she wants to talk to one of the patients here; apparently it's urgent." Feather...that was Jayden's friend. The one who had placed the call to the police station. So that eliminated the question of who she wanted to speak to.

"Let her in. Tell her to see me," I said, walking brusquely back to my office.

"Shouldn't I tell the guards...?"

"Nobody even thinks about bringing Mr. Nigma out until I know what Miss Sylvess wants," I ordered harshly, all business once again. Whatever this was, it couldn't be good.

~Feather~

"So, Feather, what brings you to Arkham?" Dr. Leland asked. I took a deep breath, sitting up straight and trying not to let it show that my feet would barely touch the ground. I wasn't really short; the chairs were very high.

"I need to talk to the Riddler," I said. Dr. Leland didn't look too shaken up at this. I didn't think that was good.

"I see," She said, clasping her hands together on her desk. "The question is, _why _do you want to talk to him?" I didn't know what to say; I didn't know how much Dr. Leland knew about the game Jayden had made, and I didn't want to give it away.

"It's...about..."

"Feather, we can't tell him that Jayden is missing," Dr. Leland said urgently. "He wouldn't care, anyway." I was not one to argue with people, so what I did next shocked me. I suppose all those debates I'd had with Jayden caught up with me.

"Then why should it matter whether or not we tell him?" I asked. "She's his doctor, he has a right to know." Dr. Leland looked pained to hear this, and I could tell that she saw a flicker of Jayden in my words.

"I..." She began, her cool control fading. Finally, she sighed. "What makes you think he can help?" She asked me.

"It takes a criminal to catch one," I said quietly. "He could probably do more in a day than the GCPD could do in a week...as far as this case goes,"

"What makes you say that?" I sighed. For better or for worse, I was telling her.

"Because he and Jayden play a game every session," I began. "Every session, they have a sort of riddle contest. And it's been sort of a bonding experience. I think he actually cares about what happens to her, which gives him the motivation to go out and find her."

"And how do we know that he'll come back to Arkham after this is over?" Dr. Leland asked harshly.

"We don't," I said simply. Maybe it was because of my reasoning, or maybe just because she wasn't expecting my answer, but Dr. Leland had nothing to say. She slowly nodded after a little bit.

"I hate to do this, Feather," She said. "But I think that Riddler's our best shot at getting Jayden back." She pressed an intercom on her desk. "Carmine? This is Joan," She said, talking to the receptionist that had let me in. "Get Cash and someone else who's free and tell them to get Riddler down to Room 4. Tell him there's someone who has to talk to him." After a pause, she looked over at me. "I hope you know what you're about to get us all into, Feather." She said coolly.

"So do I," I confessed.

I could tell from the way Riddler looked over at me as I entered the room that he recognized me from yesterday's session. I didn't say anything as I sat down in the chair, smoothing out my skirt and fixing my braid.

"So, Riddler..." I began. "I don't know how much the guards have told you, but..."

"I know who you are, Feather," Riddler said. "And I also know that you were quite desperate to tell me something. The question is," He leaned forwards across the metal table. "_What _is it that you wanted to tell me?" I took a deep breath, sitting up straight again.

"I need your help," I said. "Jayden's missing, and I think Keith is behind it," Riddler's reaction was almost instantly visible. His brow creased, his fists clenched, and his eyes narrowed.

"Oh, really?" He asked, his voice taking on a dangerous tone.

"Y-yes," I said, a little shaken up by his sudden change in demeanor. But it proved my point; that he really did care.

"And _when _was dear Dr. Leland going to tell me about this?" He continued in an almost-casual tone, leaning back in his chair and drumming his fingertips together.

"I'm not sure," I said. I did _not _want to tell him that they weren't planning on letting him know at all. I think he knew, though. He smirked wryly as he took in my uncomfortable expression; I was a _horrible _liar. Riddler paused for a moment, deliberating.

"So Arkham is willing to release me to track her down?" He asked, but it wasn't really meant to be answered. I mean, I wouldn't be talking to him unless it had already been cleared by the higher-ups.

"Yes," I said anyway. "Because the GCPD hasn't made much progress," Riddler made a sound that seemed to be a cross between a scoff and a laugh.

"What else is new?" He asked. "They wouldn't know how to tie their shoes without Batman," I frowned. I was certain that the GCPD wasn't _that _bad, no matter how much they tended to lean on Batman. And it didn't help that my father had been a police officer for a little while.

"Riddler, all ridiculing aside, I _really _need you to help." I said. "Heaven knows what Jayden's going through right now." All the humor on Riddler's face disappeared, replaced by a dark expression.

"Of course," he said. "She needs help. Immediately." With that he stood up so quickly that the guards at the door started forward. "Now, where are my release papers?"


End file.
